


wish upon a falling star

by pilotsirens



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Curse Breaking, Fluff and Angst, Howl's Moving Castle AU, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, Jisung is a sweetheart, M/M, Magic, Slow Burn, Witch Curses, Witches, Wizards, chan as lettie, changbin as calcifer, featuring hyunjin as howl, felix as markl, howl's moving castle - freeform, jisung as sophie, other members will maybe appear later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27591970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pilotsirens/pseuds/pilotsirens
Summary: Jisung is born in a world where magic is everywhere. Witches and wizards can be found at every corner, and everyone has powers, to more or less extent. Except for people like him. People born without a magical core.Considered useless by the society, Jisung has resigned himself to a life at his mother's old bakery, now owned by his father-in-law. The days go by slowly, with nothing out of the ordinary happening. That is, until he accidentally bumps into Hwang, the most powerful wizard of the country, and gets cursed as a result by the Crimson Witch who seems to think he has some kind of connection to him.Now trapped in an eighty-year-old body, Jisung has no choice but to leave the bakery behind and search for a remedy. He ends up in a moving castle that ironically belongs to Hwang, the man indirectly responsible for his curse, where he meets a fire demon named Changbin who might be able to break his curse, on one condition : that he helps him as well.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36





	1. the curse of the witch

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS DKFHGHHG howl's moving castle is my favorite movie ever and hyunjin's hair just gives me howl vibe every time I see him i HAD to write this
> 
> hope you'll enjoy ehe <333

_“Hyunjin!”_

_He looked around, but there was only dark as far as his eyes could see. He didn’t know where he was, but the scene seemed familiar. He was standing, probably outside considering the chilly wind that made him shiver, and there was something warm in his hands, he could feel it. But he couldn’t remember what it was, and he couldn’t look down, too preoccupied by the voice calling for him. He had no control over his body, but he didn’t mind. It was a problem for later. The voice was more important._

_“Hyunjin!”_

_Was that his name? It would explain why the beating of his heart got faster, like he was eager to answer, to shout that he was here. He didn’t know who was calling, but it wasn’t someone who wanted to hurt him, he could feel it in his bones. It was a genuine cry, desperate and pleading._

_“Hyunjin, I know you’re here! Please answer me!”_

_He opened his mouth to call back, but someone grabbed his shoulders suddenly and he dropped what he had in his hands, startled._

_“Where did you think you were going with this, little thief?”_

_This voice wasn’t desperate at all, but instead low and menacing. It made shivers ran down his spine. He wanted to escape, but the person was clutching his shirt tightly, making it impossible to run. He could feel the power emanating from their body. It was too late, he was trapped._

_“You knew what you were risking by wandering around here, didn’t you?”_

_He knew, but for him it had always seemed like a distant punishment, something others went through but not him. He thought he could outsmart her. But as much as he thought he was invincible, he’d lost. And he was going to pay for his imprudence._

_Surprisingly enough, this fact didn’t terrify him. He could even feel himself relax. Finally, this was going to be over. He was about to close his eyes when the voice called again, but this time muffled, like he heard it from underwater._

_“Hyunjin, please, it’s me! It’s Jisung!”_

_Jisung? The name didn’t spark anything in his mind. Was he supposed to know him?_

_“Don’t let the witch catch you! I’ll find you in the future, I promise you!”_

_The words were almost inaudible, and they made no sense. It was probably his imagination running wild again, an echo of a dream he had or something of the sort. Why did it matter now? The witch had caught him. It was over._

_“It’s a shame. You’re so young… Maybe in another circumstances, you could have been my apprentice. But my rules are clear. You trespass on my land, you get punished.”_

_He felt so cold now, and it wasn’t because of the wind anymore. The grip of the witch on his shoulders had something to do with it, paralyzing him so he wouldn’t be able to run away. She leaned on, and he felt his breath on his lips before she exhaled slowly and he fell in the dark._

· · ─────── ·· ─────── · ·

“What will it be for you, sir?” the young boy asked, wiping his hands to get rid of the flour on them.

The man in front of him sighed, like he’d asked a complex math equation instead of a simple question, one you’d expect to hear when you enter a bakery. He scanned the many cakes and breads aligned before him, frowning and making exasperated noises, sometimes pointing to one of them before changing his mind right after. Jisung was waiting patiently behind the counter, a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Sorry, it’s hard to decide,” apologized the man, who didn’t seem sorry at all.

“No problem. Take all the time you need.”

 _But not too much, because we’re closing in ten minutes_ , he thought, exasperated. Seriously, why did everyone think it was a good idea to come in right before closing time? Jisung couldn’t afford to be late, he had to deliver a package to his older brother right after closing the shop and if he didn’t make it on time, he could be sure to hear him complain.

“I wanted a cake for a date with my fiancée, do you have any idea which one would be more fitting to the occasion?” asked suddenly the customer, raising his eyebrows.

He was tall and looked dapper in his dark suit and hat. His voice had a bit of an accent to it, which meant he was probably one of the many foreigners who came from all over the country to see the city’s festival, a renowned event taking place every year at the end of summer. Most of the customers of the day had been tourists like him, dressed in elegant clothes and speaking with a lilt to their voice that wasn’t common around here.

The city’s festival attracted thousands of people each year, rich people from the North who came to spend their money in the town’s little arts and crafts shops, witches from the South who came in groups to attend the local covens ceremony, families eager to enjoy the festivities and to witness the carnival. Jisung didn’t really like that time of the year, because it meant he had extra-work to do. He spent most of his time in the kitchens, making bread and cakes all night, and then he was standing up all day, doing his best to understand what these foreigners wanted from him with the language barrier. He was exhausted for a couple of weeks after that.

He was used to it. He’d been running the bakery almost by himself since his fifteenth birthday. Sometimes his father-in-law came to help, but very rarely, as he’d rather hang out in town with his friends, leaving the responsibility of the shop to his nineteen-year-old son. He never thanked him for his work, didn’t even pay him a real salary, and every time there was a problem, Jisung had to solve it by himself. He couldn’t even protest because as he put it, it was thanks to him that Jisung even had a job.

_“No one else would employ someone who can’t even do magic. You’re lucky I let you stay in the bakery, otherwise you’d be in the streets, begging for something to eat.”_

Jisung knew that due to his… condition, there were very little jobs he could qualify for. He’d resigned himself to spend his whole life in the bakery, being underpaid and having to support scornful remarks all day long from people who looked down on him just because they had a better life than his. His future wasn’t very bright, but he had no other choices. At least he got to eat the cake leftovers when the shop was closed. And the bakery had been formerly run by his mother, until she was too sick to be able to walk, so it was like following in her footsteps. He liked it because it was like being connected to her. It made him feel better, knowing she could watch over him from wherever she was and be proud of him for continuing the work she had started.

“Well, you have the angel food cake, which has a very light texture due to the whipped egg whites it is made with. There’s the red velvet cake, which is one of our best-selling cakes, and my go-to for a dinner party. An opera cake might also be a good choice, this pastry is a real showstopper. Is any of them to your liking?”

The man seemed to hesitate for several minutes before pointing to a cheesecake, the last one that had miraculously survived the day.

“I’ll take this,” he said finally.

Jisung cursed internally. He’d reserved it for himself, looking forward to eating it as a reward for having worked hard all day. Alas, it was gone now.

“No problem,” he answered, trying not to sound too disappointed.

He began to tie a ribbon around the box containing the pastry, ignoring his rumbling stomach. He tried to comfort himself: it was just a cake; he’d eat another. But now that his motivation to keep working had disappeared, he was suddenly wary of his day, eager to close the shop. He wanted nothing but to sleep for twelve hours straight.

Thankfully, no one came after the elegant man, and he was able to lock the door, but not before turning the sign hanging on it on the “closed” side. He still had to clean the floor and take care of the pastries and breads that had survived the day, but he allowed himself to take a break for a few minutes. He sat on a stool behind the counter, resting his head on top of his arms in order to watch the passers-by in the street more comfortably.

The bakery was located next to the city center, in a narrow street not far from the bustling activities of the carnival. Therefore, a lot of people took it as a shortcut to reach the livelier areas. From where he sat, Jisung could see them walking by his shop, with their family or with friends. None of them paid attention to him, the lonely boy hidden in the shadows of the closed bakery. He didn’t mind, in fact, he liked seeing things from afar and not having to take part in them. For once, he didn’t have to put a smile on his face, to talk or to pretend. He could be himself, just watching, a spectator of the great show of life.

He knew he had to hurry, or Chan would scold him for being late, but it was so good to be seated after a long day standing up. He stayed like this one minute or two, before sighing loudly and getting up. He threw a last glance at the cakes aligned in the display stand before grabbing a slice of chocolate cake and shoving it in his mouth, enjoying the sweet taste. He would come back later to deal with the leftovers, for now he had to deliver his brother’s package if he didn’t want to be in trouble.

Just above the bakery was his apartment, a nice place with everything he needed. It made things easier to live right next to his workplace, especially on a day like today. He took the stairs two at a time, aware that maybe he shouldn’t have taken the time to rest a bit, considering that he only had fifteen minutes to get to his brother now.

Once upstairs in his apartment, he put on his coat and took the package he’d left on the couch, still munching the entire slice of cake. Before getting out, he caught his reflection in the mirror behind the front door. It wasn’t a pleasing sight. He looked like a squirrel, with his round cheeks stuffed with food. His black hair was dishevelled and his face red after working in the heat of the ovens all day. He was far from being attractive and he knew it, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it, so he just put the thought away to focus on his delivery mission. There were worse things than being ugly, right?

Outside, he was welcomed by the cheers of tourists watching some street performers right next to the bakery. It was the evening, but the festivities never stopped, even at night. For a whole week, the city didn’t sleep. Later tonight fireworks would be launched in the sky, and a ball would be held until dawn on the main square. Jisung had no intention of going. He was too exhausted to take part in futilities like this, and besides, what would be the point of going alone?

He did like the atmosphere of the city though. There was something about the noise, the applause, the knowledge that it never slept, that even if he went out at 4 in the morning, there would still be jugglers and wizards and dancers outside, that steadied him. He didn’t like silence, he appreciated being in the center of the city and feeling surrounded by people all the time. This way he was never truly alone with his thoughts, but indirectly connected to thousands of other individuals.

He passed the small clusters of tourists and took a shortcut to reach the docks. In this part of the city the buildings were not small and cramped, like in Jisung’s neighborhood, but large and separated from each other by smaller streets. Here, on each side of the river, lived the magicians of the city, in their luxurious and colorful homes.

The river crossing the city was named Antesia, meaning “haven” in the ancient tongue, the one still used by sorcerers and sorceress to cast spells. According to the old legends, the river had sprung out of a rock when Talis, a young girl who had been cast away from her hometown because she had magical powers, had first arrived here to flee the people trying to kill her. She’d hit the earth with her hand, and the river had been born. Talis had been able to hide herself in the water, becoming one with it, and escape her pursuers who saw nothing else but a banal landscape. Later, she became the founder of the first city of magicians to ever exist, welcoming those who were rejected by their own family and creating a safe haven for them. The river which had saved her became a place of remembrance and the center of a celebration that took place every year in the city, which had evolved into the current festival.

Jisung liked this legend. When he was younger, he often played the role of Talis alone in his room, pretending he could make rivers spring from his bed or his desk. Of course, it never happened. But at this time, he didn’t know that it would be the case for all of his life. That he would never be able to snap his fingers and make his toys levitate like Chan did. That he would work in a bakery until his death, because no one had use for a powerless young boy elsewhere.

It was a bit ironic that nowadays, the people oppressed where the ones born without a magical core, when hundreds of years ago, during Talis’ time, it was the exact opposite. But Jisung had long ago stopped thinking about what had been and what could’ve been. What was the use in focusing on the past? His life was this way. He couldn’t change it, he just had to deal with it the best he could.

His delivery was the occasion to take a look at the city, since he didn’t go out often. The river looked beautiful tonight, reflecting the sunset and the variety of pink and purple shades in the sky. It was the best time of the day. The colors where always breathtaking at this hour, leaving him with his eyes wide open and his mouth stretched in a soft smile. He entered the building where Chan worked with regret, taking in the view for the last time. There, he still had to go up to the third floor.

Chan worked as an apprentice in a small witch workshop overlooking the river. Like most people in this country, he’d been born with a magical core, allowing him to cast spells and make potions, and like most people in this country, he had to learn to master it. When their mother died, leaving the two boys with their father-in-law, he’d first settled on staying with Jisung to help him with the bakery. But Jisung couldn’t stand the idea of his beloved brother wasting his life just to stay with him, the outcast who couldn’t do magic. He insisted on Chan leaving and finding some place to improve his skills, assuring that he could deal with the bakery by himself. Chan refused at first. He argued that Jisung was too young, that it was his duty as an older brother to stay by his side no matter what. In the end, it was their father-in-law who convinced him to go elsewhere.

Jisung was happy for him, he really was. He was living the life he’d always wanted, a life Jisung could never dream of. But sometimes, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion realizing this wasn’t some temporary accommodation, that Chan would never come home and help him at the bakery anymore. He shook his head as he climbed the stairs, chasing the thoughts away. He didn’t know why he was so emotional today. Maybe it had something to do with the moon. Moon sorcerers and sorceresses were always talking about how the celestial body had an impact on people’s behaviours.

Once on the third floor, he went for the most extravagant door, painted in warm tones of red and orange and decorated with mullein flowers for protection against witchcraft and curses. As always, the door wasn’t locked. He rolled his eyes. Chan would never change.

Once inside the workshop, he was welcomed by the hooting of an owl perched on a cage, and the soft sound of bubbles popping from a cauldron nearby. The place was messy, as always, with flasks and vials lined up on the shelves, full of colored liquids, plants hanging from the ceiling and books and parchments scattered everywhere around the room. A smell that he couldn’t quite place reigned over the room.

“Do you ever clean?” he sighed, closing the door behind him.

“Do you ever knock before entering?” groaned Chan somewhere in the depths of the apartment. “You scared me, Sungie!”

“Sorry,” he shrugged, not really sorry.

Chan came from a door at his right, his blonde hair sticking in every directions and stains of purple on his cheeks. He was wearing a simple white shirt with black pants, and an apron who had probably been white one day, but now was more or less greyish. Even after working all day, he looked beautiful. Jisung often wondered how someone as pretty and talented could be related to him, the shame of the family.

“Did you bring me what I wanted? Oh, great!” he exclaimed, seeing the package that Jisung was holding.

He grabbed it and made some space on the table to put the box on it, eyes sparkling with excitement. Jisung was a bit curious to know what was inside, so he took a step closer while Chan was busy untying the ribbons holding the package together. A woman had come early to deliver it at the bakery this morning, taking advantage of buying a Black Forest gateau for some reception she was having tonight to avoid making a detour and come here at the workshop to give it to Chan in person. Jisung didn’t mind having to come all the way, it was an occasion to visit his brother.

“Oh, yes!” Chan clapped in his hands, his enthusiasm so contagious that Jisung found himself smiling as well. “Let’s see… Some willow tree bark, crystals from the North meadows, blossoms from a dying tree, and some fallen star dust… Layla really outdid herself! She got all that I asked!”

Jisung guessed Layla was the woman from this morning. It was obvious she was a witch, and a talented one, with her numerous jewels, her extravagant hairstyle and the rich fabric of her dress. The richest people here were famous wizards and witches, easy to recognize in the streets by how they were dressed.

“Why couldn’t she come here herself to give this to you?” he asked, leaning on the table.

“She’s a very busy woman, Jisung, she can’t spend her whole day wandering around the city,” said Chan, rolling his eyes like he’d said something stupid. “Leaving packages at the bakery is easier for her.”

“If you say so. What are you going to do with all this?”

Chan seemed glad he’d asked. He loved talking about what he did as a wizard, all the experiments and spells and a whole lot of other things Jisung wasn’t familiar with. Every chance he got, Jisung questioned him about what he was currently working on, knowing it would make him happy to explain all the little details to him.

“Well, you know how I’m working on these new spells? I thought it would be way easier if I used celestial bodies. Stars are… How can I put it… Very powerful entities. Very useful for a number of spells. But the thing is, they’re also terribly hard to obtain. Layla has a whole stock at her home, considering she supplies all the town in ingredients, and you can’t imagine the things I had to do to convince her to let me buy some. It was expensive, but it’s worth it! With this fallen star dust, my experiments are going to take a whole other turn.”

Chan wasn’t specialized in a particular kind of magic yet, but he liked everything to do with space, the stars and the planets and the moon. Even when they were children, he’d always been fascinated with everything related to astronomy. Jisung thought he might become a moon wizard, or a star wizard, but he hadn’t decided yet. “I like to keep my options open,” he had explained when Jisung had asked several months ago.

Having a magical core didn’t mean you had to specialize in an element, but it’s the path most wizards took. It was easier this way, and your magic became much more precise, since you could concentrate all of your powers on one thing. There were a lot of possible elements to choose from: rocks, water, light, sun, snow, fire, earth, sand, flowers, air… If Jisung had had a magical core, he would’ve loved being a plant wizard. He’d always liked nature, and his apartment was filled with plants of all sorts. He took time to tend to them and make them grow, and they helped him with his anxiety.

Those who didn’t choose a specialty had at least several areas in which they were most comfortable. And some people preferred to master all kind of magic at the same level, but those were disregarded by society and considered too unstable to be efficient.

“Joon didn’t have any stardust in all his … Mess?” questioned Jisung, looking at the shelves filled with quantities of jars and bottles.

“Nah, he’s is a moon wizard, he has no use for stardust.”

Kim Namjoon, the sorcerer Chan had chosen for his apprenticeship, was a renowned figure in town. His book, a compilation on all his works on the moon, had been a bestseller for months. As Jisung often visited Chan, they’d become friends. He was very wise and kind, and Jisung would lie if he said he didn’t have a tiny crush on him.

“Oh, I forgot to ask! How have you been, Sungie? I haven’t seen you in three days! Everything alright at the bakery? It must be crowded all day, with the festival.”

Jisung sat on a bench, suspiciously eyeing the owl to make sure it wasn’t going to jump at him. “We’re not lacking customers, that’s for sure. And they’re from all over the country, which means sometimes they have a strong accent and strange way of expressing themselves. At this point I spend more time trying to understand them than actually selling breads and pastries.”

“I find it fascinating, all these different languages,” sighed Chan dreamily. “I’d love to speak them all, but then, what would be the fun in hearing people talk and not understanding?”

“I don’t see any fun in it when I’m trying to do my job. I’m already tired of working in the bakery, it doesn’t help.”

At this, Chan lost a bit of his cheerfulness and looked at Jisung with a concerned look on his face.

“You know… Maybe you don’t have to spend your whole life here,” he suggested.

Jisung laughed humorlessly. “And where else would I work? Who would want to hire someone who doesn’t have a magical core? I’m useless and you know it.”

“But if you don’t want to stay at the bakery, you should see if there’s something else for you out here. Travel a bit, see other parts of the world. This city may not be for you, but other places might be.”

“Have you seen me? I’m way too shy and introverted for exploration. No, I’ll stay my whole life here selling pastries, I’ve resigned myself to it.”

“But do you like it?”

Jisung shrugged. Chan only wanted to be nice, but this particular subject always put him on edge.

“It’s a job like any other job.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you liked it?”

He was starting to be tired of this conversation. He wanted to go home, to his small apartment, and take care of his plants instead of hoping for a future that would never be his.

“What do you want me to say, Chan?” he said, irritation obvious in his voice. “That I hate it? That I would rather be like you, and be accepted by Father and by society? That I would give everything I have to never set foot in this damn bakery again? Is that what you want me to say? I’m not like you, I don’t have the opportunities you have, and I’ll never have them. I’m just some boy with no powers and no one wants me. So why does it matter if I don’t like the bakery? It’s not like I have a choice! I don’t get to choose what I will do with my life, because destiny or fate or whoever is in charge of our lives ruined mine from the day I was born by not giving me a magical core!”

Tears were burning his eyes now, and he stood up and walked to the window to get some fresh air. Behind him, he heard Chan get up and felt his arms around him a few seconds later.

“Jisung…” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just want you to be happy, that’s all…”

“I know. But saying that won’t change the fact that I’m stuck here forever. And I shouldn’t be ungrateful, because at least I have a job… And Mom loved the bakery. When it gets hard, I remind myself she would be happy to see me following in her footsteps.”

Chan chuckled. “Yes, she spent all of her time in the kitchen, finding new cake ideas. She always had flour on her hands and dough on her cheeks.”

Jisung smiled at the memory. Their mother was a witch too, and her specialty was food. Her pastries could cure small diseases or remove sadness or make someone fall in love easily. But in the end, her own cakes couldn’t save her when she fell sick.  
Even if today, the pastries and breads that Jisung sells are just regular pastries, he stills bakes them with all the care and love his mom put into her cooking. The bakery was her life. The least he can do is keep this part of her on Earth, even if the rest is gone.

“I just feel alone, sometimes, you know,” he murmured in a soft voice. “When the last customer leaves and I’m left by myself. In these moments, I miss her so much.”

Maybe that’s why he liked living in the city so much. Because he didn’t feel as much alone when he heard life around him.

“I understand… It’s not the same here, because there’s Joon and Hootie, but…”

Jisung laughed. “I always forget your owl is named Hootie. It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not!” protested Chan, disentangling himself from his brother. “It’s a perfectly respectable name.”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Sure, if you say so.”

And just like that, the emotional moment had passed, and they were back to their playful banter. Jisung liked it better that way. He had buried his emotions so deep inside him that he always had trouble expressing himself when it came to serious matters involving feelings. He’d rather laugh it off and tell a joke than actually being honest about how he felt. A bad habit, but although his brother seemed sometimes sad that he couldn’t truly communicate with him, he’d never made a remark.

“Anyway, I should probably go back now,” he sighed. “The sun has already set, and you know I don’t like being outside when it’s dark.”

“Especially with everything happening nowadays… You’re being careful, right? I’ve heard rumors. Apparently, Hwang is back in town, and you know he has a reputation of stealing young boys’ hearts. I wouldn’t want that happening to you.”

Ah, yes. Jisung was sure the subject would come on the table. With his brother being so protective, it was almost surprising he didn’t talk about it sooner.

Hwang was a living legend here. Few people had actually seen him, but according to the rumors, he was one of these wizards who hadn’t chosen an element and had decided to master everything. He was really young, but exceptionally skilled. And according to the rumors, he got his immense power by stealing young people’s core. No one that Jisung knew had actually met him, so he was still unsure if he really existed, but the thought of him made him shiver. Even if he probably wasn’t the kind of person Hwang would want to have.

“No risk that it will happen to me. He only looks for people who have a magical core, remember?” said Jisung bitterly. “There’s no way he’s going to be interested in me.”

At the mention of his lack of core, he felt Chan stiffen. And then he shook his head and cupped Jisung’s face with his hands, rubbing his cheeks like when they were younger.

“Still, I’m scared that something will happen to you. I’m a big brother, it’s my job to worry, okay?”

Jisung smiled. The concern of his brother was touching. “I’ll be careful. And stop with my cheeks, you know I hate it.”

He escaped Chan’s grasp, moving closer to the table. “I should really get going.”

“Oh, wait. I have something for you.” Chan started fumbling in the mess on the table, until he found what he was looking for. He triumphantly brandished a grey sachet before placing it in Jisung's hand, who sniffed it. He raised an eyebrow.

“Lavender?”

Chan nodded his head. “It's to prevent bad encounters. I know you don't live that far away, but better safe than sorry.”

“Thank you.” Jisung pocketed the sachet. Even if he doubted that a simple plant could protect him, it was a nice attention. “I suppose I won’t see you before next week?”

“Actually, I was thinking of coming to the bakery tomorrow. It’s been a while since I didn’t taste your famous cheesecake,” he chuckled, winking at Jisung. “And to be honest… I kinda miss interacting with the clients. I don’t see a lot of people in here, only Namjoon’s friends occasionally, and although they’re really nice, they don’t come often. I miss seeing the neighbors, hearing them talk about the weather or their grandchildren, wishing them a good day. I go outside, but it’s not the same with people you pass by in the streets. You can’t just engage in conversation with a perfect stranger.”

Oh. Jisung hadn’t expected this. It was true that Chan had always been a social butterfly, making friends easily and withering when he didn’t get any human contact. That’s what he loved the most about working at the bakery: not the cooking, but the talking. When Jisung was much more at ease in the kitchens, baking his favorite pastries like his mother had taught him away from any social interactions, Chan was blossoming at the counter, getting to know everyone in their neighborhood and simply being the extroverted talkative boy he was.

It had always been the main difference between them. While Jisung was anxious in public, stressed at the very thought of someone speaking to him, Chan was looking for this kind of interaction desperately. On this they couldn’t really understand each other, but other than that they were similar in many ways. They were both hardworking, determined to get what they wanted, kind and also shared the same sense of humor. They’d always gotten along well, even when they were children.

Jisung was glad to have his brother by his side, especially now since their mother was gone and their father-in-law was a despicable man, busier spending Jisung’s hard-earned money at the bakery in futile things rather than looking correctly after his two sons-in-law.

But as close as he was with his brother, he had no idea Chan felt like this. He’d assumed that since he was living his dream, he must have the perfect life, but he should know by now that it didn’t work like that. He was angry at himself for not having noticed sooner that Chan felt lonely, working in his workshop all day. Of course, Namjoon was usually here, teaching him spells and recipes, but it wasn’t the same.

“I would love to see you at the bakery again,” said Jisung, and the smile that spread on Chan’s face made him feel warmer inside. “See you tomorrow, then!”

They exchanged one last hug, and Jisung went out. Outside the sun had disappeared, and the sky was now devoid of any colors. He shivered. He didn’t really like being outside at night, because his old fears always resurfaced, and he had to turn around every five seconds to make sure he wasn’t followed and that it was just his imagination acting up.

He walked quickly along the river, thankful for the streetlights and the few passersby on their way to the ball. The streets were still bustling from activities, and he could hear the music coming from the center of the city. Unfortunately, to reach his neighborhood he had to take several streets where no one was walking, and he prayed that he wouldn’t meet some shifty guy who would call out to him.

God, he really hated being alone at night. He was clutching the sachet of lavender like it would really prevent him from making bad encounters. For now, it seemed to work pretty well.

He was almost in a livelier area when two men emerged from the shadows and stood in front of him, blocking his way. Jisung felt like he was dying inside. Why was it happening to him? Why did he have to be so unlucky? If something happened, he was powerless, unable to defend himself. He could always scream, but who would hear him? The ball was so close to where he lived that the music was too loud for anyone to be able to hear him.

He tried to keep walking, but one of the men stopped him. He was taller than him, blonde, wearing a military uniform and smiling in a way that made shiver run down Jisung’s spine. The other was a bit smaller, with the same military uniform and the same threatening smile, and he put a hand on Jisung’s shoulders. He wanted to throw up. Being touched by this man was making his stomach squirm.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing outside at this hour, eh? Going to the ball like everybody else? You don’t seem dressed for a ball.”

Jisung felt tears burning his eyes and he did his best to repress them. The situation was bad enough, he couldn’t allow himself to appear even weaker than he was. In a surge of bravery, he raised his chin and broke free of the smallest man’s clutches. “I’m on my way home,” he said, hoping they couldn’t hear his voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, would you look at that! The pretty boy is going home. Look, he’s all shy, he looks like a mouse.”

“Don’t you want to spend some time with us, little mouse?”

“I- I would like to go home, sir.”

They didn't seem to want to let him through. On the contrary, they leaned towards him even more, pushing him backwards. Jisung considered running for a moment, but where would he go? He would take the risk of being caught, or having a spell cast on him. Who knew what these men could do to him? He clutched the packet of lavender even tighter, like Chan would miraculously sense that he was in danger and join him to kick those men’s ass.

“Leaving so soon? But we haven’t even talked yet! What’s your name, little mouse?”

“I-I… I’m Jisung,” he answered pitifully. “Can you leave me alone, please?”

“Jisung! That’s a pretty name for a pretty boy,” remarked the blonde one. “C’mon, we just want to have some fun.”

Jisung was afraid he would start crying at any moment now. He was panicked, not knowing what to do to get out of this situation.

That’s when a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder from behind, making him startle. Thankfully he didn’t gasp out loud. The men took a step backwards, eyes wide in terror. He turned his head to see who was frightening them so much and his mouth fell open. At his right was the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen.

He was taller than him, with blonde hair brushing his shoulders, and his green eyes matching his emeralds earrings made Jisung’s heart miss a beat when they landed on him. He was dressed in an exuberant manner, like only wealthy sorcerers were. A pink silk coat, a white shirt, earrings and necklace adorned with precious jewelry. Even the hand on Jisung’s shoulder had several rings on it. He was without a doubt someone powerful, even if he didn’t seem much older than him.

“Finally, I found you,” spoke the newcomer in a low voice. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

The two men opened their eyes wide when they realized what was happening.

“Are they bothering you, my love?” asked the stranger, a soft smile on his lips.

Jisung blushed significantly at the use of the pet name coming from someone so handsome. He managed to shake his head, still awestruck by the beauty of the boy so close to him. But the wizard didn’t seem to believe him. He raised his finger, and the soldiers turned back, soon disappearing at the corner of the street.

Jisung heaved a relieved sigh. “Thank you. I didn’t know what to do with them.”

“No problem. I hate people like them, who think that they own the whole world. You have to be a coward to target defenseless boys in the streets.” He sounded angry.

Jisung was about to add something else to express how grateful he was when the wizard suddenly turned his head and swore to himself. “I’m afraid I’ve been followed. I’m sorry, but I can’t leave you here on your own now that they’re here. Come with me.”

He put an arm around Jisung’s waist, and suddenly they were taking off, rising in the air until they were above the houses. Jisung let out a small cry, surprised by the sensation of his feet hanging in the air, but the wizard chuckled. “I know, it always feels weird the first time. Just relax and pretend you’re walking.”

Jisung had no idea what was happening, but he did as told, and slowly began to relax when he realized he wasn’t falling. The boy was next to him, holding him tightly, and he gulped. He wasn’t used to being so close physically to perfect strangers. But he was so afraid of letting go and crashing on the pavement below that he hugged him even closer. The wizard laughed once again, a light, bright sound. He must think Jisung was pathetic, with the small sounds of terrors escaping his mouth before he could stop himself.

They were flying. He was flying. He’d never experienced something like this, but the sensation was thrilling. He could see the whole city stretching below him, the passersby reduced to small black dots, the colored lights of the ball a bit farther on his left. It was so mesmerizing he forgot about his fear for a moment.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed, having regained some of his composure.

“I know. I like being up here. All material matters seem insignificant when you distance yourself from them. Don’t you feel free, freer than you’ve ever been?”

“I-I do.”

“That’s what’s so amazing about flying.”

This had to be a dream. There was no way that him, Jisung, a simple human, could be the witness of such a beautiful sight, while having a conversation with a handsome stranger, and said stranger holding him.

“The shadows should have lost our track by now, I can bring you back home. Where do you live?”

“The shadows?” repeated Jisung, confused.

“I have a few enemies in town. I’m sorry you were involved in this. I’ll bring you where you’re supposed to be.”

“Oh, yeah, sure… I-I live at the bakery near the city center. Over there,” he pointed to the block of houses where his apartment was. The wizard nodded, and they turned around, walking in the direction Jisung had indicated. He still had trouble processing what was happening. It felt unreal, but he could feel the wind in his hair and the pressure of a body against his. He was so unfamiliar with magic that it seemed impossible to be up here, but he had to admit it was really happening.

They began their descent above the place indicated by Jisung and landed on his balcony. He was still stunned by this sudden flight, his head spinning. The magician detached himself from him and smiled brightly. “You’re a natural! I’m impressed, most people I take on a flight aren’t at ease like that.”

Jisung wondered briefly if he often grabbed people by the waist to fly with them above a bustling city, but he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he smiled. It was the first time someone actually told him he was good at something involving magic, even if it was only walking in the air, and a warmth spread in his chest.

“Sadly, I have to leave, otherwise they’ll sense that I’m here and I don’t want them chasing after you. I wish you a good evening.”

He bowed and fell backwards. Jisung repressed a scream and ran to look down if he was okay, but the wizard landed swiftly, and after a last glance in Jisung’s direction, he disappeared into the streets. Jisung put a hand on his heart to try and steady its erratic beatings. He couldn’t believe what had just happened.

He saved me, he realized, now that he could form coherent thoughts. _Without him, these men would have done God-knows-what to me already_. He was terrified. He’d been lucky that this wizard was nearby, otherwise he would have been in a very delicate position. He would have to keep it a secret from Chan or his brother would never leave him alone again.

Once he was a bit less shaken, he entered his apartment, surprised by how calm it was inside. He half-expected chaos to follow him here. He should be happy it wasn’t the case. He removed his coat, but didn’t took of his shoes, as he still had to go downstairs in the bakery to clean up.

The familiarity of his home helped him clear his mind. He reminded himself that nothing could happen here. He was safe, the door was locked. The bakery was still the same as ever, with its pastel tones that his mother had chosen when she’d first arrived here.

He started removing the cakes from the counter, putting some in the freezer to eat during the week and sadly throwing some of them in the trash. He swept the floor, cleaned the shelves to remove every last crumb, emptying the cash register and counting to make sure he’d made no mistakes. When everything was ready, he was about to go upstairs and eat something for dinner, but the door of the shop suddenly opened, startling him.

A woman entered, cigarette in his hand and bright red lipstick on her lips. He’d never seen her before, but she had a sinister aura, and he immediately decided he didn’t like her. She was a fearsome silhouette, dressed all in black silk, with a black feathered hat and a black boa. A witch, obviously. Jisung took a step back, his heart speeding up in fear for the second time of the day.

“I’m-I’m sorry but we’re closed,” he stuttered. “I was sure I had locked the door, it’s my mistake, I…”

“What a pathetic shop,” she interrupted him, her voice laced with boredom. “And pathetic decoration. The colors are awful.”

At the mention of the decoration, Jisung tensed. This bakery had been the pride of his mother. She had bought the building when it was almost in ruin, worked day and night to create the shop of her dream. She had done everything herself, assembling the pieces of furniture, choosing her favorite paintings to hang on the walls, putting plants on the shelves to make it look more homely. He couldn’t tolerate a stranger walking in and criticizing all of her efforts.

“It’s only a modest neighborhood bakery,” he answered dryly. “If you’re looking for something more luxurious, I know a place which may be more to your liking on the main square. Now I would like you to leave if you have nothing else to say. The bakery is closed, and I have other matters to attend to.”

She opened wide eyes and a chuckle escaped her lips, as if she couldn’t believe what he had said.

“You dare speak to the Crimson Witch like this!” she started laughing maniacally. “Oh, boy, do you have a death wish?”

Jisung froze. This woman was the Crimson Witch?

Just like Hwang, she was a legend in town, except her story was a bit more tragic. She used to be a very powerful blood sorceress, loved by all even though she had chosen an unusual element, but her growing hunger for power got the best of her in the end. She had made a pact with a demon in order to obtain greater strength, before losing her mind due to the overwhelming amount of power she had in her body. She’d been condemned by the King and the Queen to wander eternally in the depths of the city, forbidden to interact with anyone. Apparently, this last part was no longer on the agenda.

Jisung wondered briefly if he’d done something really bad in a previous life for the current one to go like this. He’d angered the Crimson Witch. There was no way he would survive the evening. He was going to die today.

Tears started to well up in his eyes, and he thought of Chan, probably having dinner with Namjoon right now, unaware of the fact that he’d seen his brother for the last time today. He should’ve told him earlier how much he loved him and how much he’d been glad to know him. He was the only person in this world who would miss him.

A single tear rolled on his cheek, and the witch laughed again.

“I’m feeling generous tonight, so I’m not going to kill you. But this affront cannot go unpunished.”

She twisted her right hand, and Jisung doubled over in pain. It was like every muscle in his body was suddenly burning, hurting him so bad he thought he was going to pass out. He let out a scream. Everything was hurting, his vision was clouded by white dots, and for a moment he was sure he was going to die right now, here in the place he’d spent his whole life. _I’m so pathetic_ , he thought as the tears were streaming down his face. _I’m weak and useless and I never truly lived_.

And then the pain disappeared as suddenly as it had come, leaving him panting and shaking. He tried to regain his posture, holding on to the counter to make sure he wasn’t going to collapse. It had lasted less than ten seconds, but it had felt like hours.

He raised his head to look at the woman, his jaw tight. If his eyes could kill, she would be nothing more than a corpse right now. But the Crimson Witch was still very much alive, and she looked at him intensely, like she was seeing him for the first time.

“Give my regards to Hwang,” she sneered finally before leaving, shutting the door behind her.

Jisung had no idea what she meant by that and he had other preoccupations right now. The pain may had left, but he still felt weak and feeble. His back was particularly hurting him, and when he tried to stand up straight, it hurt so much he gave up, staying bent like an old person. He couldn’t believe it. He was alive. He’d encountered the Crimson Witch, and he was still alive.

He let out a relieved sigh, but it came out raspy and hoarse. He brought his hand to his neck, surprised, and that’s when he saw the back of his hands. Wrinkled and trembling, like his grandpa’s were when she was still alive. He patted his cheeks, his arms, his whole body in disbelief. N _o. No, no, no, no, this can’t be happening._

He climbed the stairs with difficulty, stopping every now and then to catch his breath. When he arrived in his apartment, the first thing he did was look at his reflection in the mirror. He let out a whimper.

He had the body of an elderly person. He’d been cursed by the Crimson Witch.


	2. the moving castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jisung wind up in a strange castle

When Jisung woke up the following morning, the first thing he felt was pain. Pain all over his body, in his arms, his legs, his head. He was sore all over, and it took him several seconds to remember why he was in this state.  _ Ah, yes. The curse.  _ He felt his chest tighten.

Last night he’d gone to sleep hoping that it was a nightmare and that maybe when he woke up, the curse would be gone and he would find himself in his usual body, the one of a nineteen-year-old boy. Alas, it wasn’t the case. The curse was very much real. On top of that, the witch hadn’t specified how it could be broken, and it seemed that it wouldn’t go off on its own. 

He tried to sit up with difficulties, arthrosis preventing him from moving as fast as he wanted to. He looked at the clock on the wall of his bedroom. 7:40am. At that time, he was usually in the kitchen baking cakes or making bread, almost ready to open the bakery at 8am. But he couldn’t possibly open the bakery in this state. What would the customers think, having an old man instead of a teenager? If they discovered he was cursed, they wouldn’t come anymore. Besides, he didn’t have the energy to stand up during the whole day. Seems like people would have to do without their breads and biscuits and pastries for today. 

Once he was seated on his bed, an action that had required far more time than he was used to, he closed his eyes to think. The events of the day before were playing in his mind on repeat, like a children's rhyme stuck in his head. He remembered the men in the streets, getting closer as Jisung grew more terrified. The hand on his shoulder, belonging to the handsome stranger. How they flew above the city, how wonderful he felt. And then, the Crimson Witch, her mocking smirk, and the curse she laid on him. “ _ Give my regards to Hwang,” _ she’d said. He didn’t understand this last part. Why had Hwang got to do with all this? Jisung had never even met him! 

He was completely lost. He had no idea what he should do, but one thing was sure, he didn’t want to stay like this. He had only experienced old age for a short time, but he already missed his young body so much. The problem was he knew nothing about witchcraft. He didn’t have the slightest idea of a solution. Maybe Chan could help, but he was reluctant about telling his brother of his … condition. 

_ Chan!  _ He opened his eyes wide. Chan was supposed to come here this morning to help him at the bakery! With everything that happened, he totally forgot about it. 

Jisung felt the anxiety bubbling in his chest. There was no way he would let Chan see him like this. Knowing him, he would go outside to fight the Crimson Witch himself and end up being hurt. No, Jisung had to solve this by himself. But how? 

He considered his options. Staying here was out of the question. He wanted nothing more than lie in the sofa all day, considering how painful every movement he made was, but he wouldn’t find a way to break his curse by staying locked up in his apartment. He had to leave and find a wizard powerful enough to give him back his appearance. 

He didn’t know much about curses, but he’d shared a room with Chan for years, and he had consequently heard him talk about almost every aspect of witchcraft, curses included. Back when they were children, and Jisung still thought his powers would appear one day or another, they studied magic together. Chan was always working, even when he was very young, and Jisung was fascinated. He explained to him the concepts he couldn’t quite grasp, making sure the youngest understood. It was years ago, but maybe some remnants of these improvised lessons were hidden somewhere in Jisung’s brain. 

From what he remembered; curses were specific to a magician’s element. Which meant a snow witch could not remove the curse of an air wizard, which seemed a bit obvious, as each element had precise characteristics that weren’t interchangeable. But it was even more difficult than that: there was something about how powerful the magician behind the curse was. Something about the amount of power… Jisung tried desperately to remember what it was, but to no avail. He swore, cursing his memory which could for some reason remember the names of a dozen types of pasta but not useful information like this. 

Then he has an idea. Chan had left some books when he had moved out. They were the ones they used to read together when they were children, about the different kinds of magic. Jisung had left them untouched in the bookcase, having no reason to read them. They didn’t bring him any comfort. On the contrary, they were a painful reminder of something he would never obtain. But today they might be of use to him.

He got up, whining and hissing because of his old body, but managed to reach the living room after what felt like hours. “How do elderly people do this every day?” he grumbled, tired like he’d walked for hours when in fact he had only traveled a few meters. 

He leaned on the sofa to stabilize himself, and started scanning the bookshelves, reading the titles to determine which one seemed to fit his situation better.  _ Magical artifacts and their history, Basic spells for beginners, How to find your element based on your personality: a guide by a psychologist…  _ And then, finally, his eyes landed on something interesting.  _ Jinxes & curses: an anthology.  _ He grabbed the book and sat on the sofa, welcome to be finally seated. 

The book wasn’t an old grimoire with a dark cover and cobwebs on it, like the title could imply. In fact, it was rather small, with a simple yellow cover, and seemed pretty recent. Jisung opened it, going straight to the table of contents to find what he was looking for. Thankfully, there was a whole chapter dedicated to  _ How to break a curse.  _ Most of it was just useless gibberish, so he skipped it until he reached the part that interested him. 

_ Curses are, in definition, unbreakable, except for the person who casted them. The only case which could lead to the curse being broken by anyone else is if another wizard of the same element is more powerful than the person who casted the spell. However, as curses are a testimony of great power, it is usually difficult finding someone with an even greater power.  _

Jisung felt himself deflate. A blood wizard more powerful than the Crimson Witch? There was no way he could find someone like that in town. He kept reading nonetheless, hoping to find another solution. There was indeed, at the bottom of the page and written in small font, a note explaining another way to break a curse.  __

_ PS: Curses can also be removed by demons, in exchange for the soul of the person cursed. This practice is forbidden for obvious reasons. Demon invocation is strictly prohibited, as it threatens the safety of the wizard himself as well as others around him.  _

He let out a humorless laugh. Finding a demon was even more difficult than finding someone superior to the Crimson Witch. He closed the book and laid it on the sofa beside him. He felt discouraged. There seemed to be no solution for his problem, and he was beginning to think he would stay like this forever. The thought made him whine in despair. His life hadn’t been the most fun or the most interesting, but he didn’t want to give up on it like that! He was too young to be old!

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” he murmured. 

Until yesterday, he was just Jisung, a banal, boring human being. Nothing extraordinary had ever happened in his life. And in the span of a few hours he’d flown in the sky and encountered the most powerful witch of the city, which also appeared to have lost her mind. Why had she chosen his bakery of all the shops in the neighborhood? It was like she was looking for someone in particular… 

Realization suddenly dawned on him. She had mentioned Hwang, the greatest wizard ever, except maybe for her. She believed he would meet him soon. It could only mean one thing: Hwang was the only one able to remove his curse. 

A lot of things made sense now. Why she had entered the shop when she had no reason to, why she had cursed him, why she had told him to give her regards to Hwang. Jisung had to find him and he would break his curse in exchange for the witch’s message or something like that. 

As soon as it became clear, he felt anger rise in his chest. He had nothing to do with wizards, so why was he involved in their problems? Didn’t she have another way to get her message to Hwang? Why did he have to be the victim in this? 

He threw the book at the wall, wincing at the pain in his arm when he did so. He couldn’t believe his misfortune. He was just living his life peacefully, minding his own business, and now he had to find some powerful wizard who lived God-knew-where because some witch couldn’t even find him herself? It was so unfair he felt like crying again, but he had no tears left. He just stayed still, his eyes unfocused, trying to figure what to do from now on. 

It was at this moment that someone knocked at the door, interrupting his train of thoughts. He froze. 

“Jisung? Are you here?”

He relaxed when he realized it was only Chan, but his relief was short-lived. He couldn’t let Chan see him like that. He had to find an excuse to keep him outside, and quick. 

“I still had the key to the bakery, so I figured I would enter… Are you okay? Aren’t you supposed to be in the shop at this hour?” The concern was obvious in his tone. 

“I-I’m sick!” he tried to speak, but his voice came out weak. Of course, he had the voice of an old person as well. “I caught a cold. Please don’t come in, it might be contagious.” 

“Oh my god, Jisung! You sound like a grandfather! You must be really sick. Are you sure you don’t want me to come in so I can make you a tea? I know a good remedy, it’s made with honey and lemon, I can...”

“No, I don’t want you to catch it,” he promptly said, coughing for good measure. “Seems like I won’t be able to be at the bakery again. Can you make a sign saying I’ll be back soon and I’m sorry for the inconvenience?”

There was a silence, as if Chan was considering his options. Jisung heard him sigh, and his heart clenched. He didn’t like lying to his brother, but it was better this way. It would be too complicated explaining him the problem, and he would never allow him to go and find Hwang, even though Jisung knew it had to be the solution. 

“Sure, I can do that…” he gave in finally. Are you going to be okay on your own?”

“Chan, I’m nineteen. I’m not a baby anymore,” provided Jisung as softly as he could considering his strained voice. “I’ll come back to you once I’m feeling better, okay?”

“… Okay. Take care. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, and then he heard Chan’s footsteps receding as he went down the stairs, and his heart broke a little. He wanted his brother by his side, but this was something he had to do alone. 

He got up and started slowly packing enough food to last a few days. The clothes he was wearing last night had shifted with him, but they were the only one fitting his new body, so he didn’t need to bring any. In fact, he didn’t have to bring a lot with him except food. 

When he was finished, he looked around him and realized how little he cared about anything in his apartment. He would miss his plants, maybe, but the rest was just furniture and useless knick knacks. Curiously, he wasn’t feeling anxious at the thought of going on an adventure of a sort. It was like the curse had also provided him the mind of an old person, not disturbed by anything. He shrugged. There was something liberating about not being plagued by worries. 

He looked one last time at his apartment, and then at the bakery, unusually quiet at this time of the day. He didn’t know if he would come back here one day, or if he would come back at all. After all, didn’t Hwang have a bad reputation? Maybe he would kill him. Jisung tried not to think about it. Last night he thought his time had come, and he’d realized he didn’t want to go, not yet. He wanted to live truly before dying. 

Maybe this journey could make him feel alive, for once. 

  * · ─────── ·· ─────── · ·



The town of Avonlea,  where he was born and had spent his whole life, was now nothing more than a mass of black roofs and chimneys. Jisung had walked for hours before reaching the top of one of the many hills surrounding the city, and he was looking back now, feeling nostalgia overwhelm him. 

“It’s funny how some distance makes everything seem small,” he murmured to himself. From the inside, the city seemed so big, especially since he hadn’t even visited the entirety of it. He’d always stayed in the same neighborhood, only rarely venturing into other parts of town. 

From where he stood, he could see a ferris wheel, and towers emerging from the sea of rooftops. He shook his head in disbelief. There was so much to see, and he’d been too caught up in his routine to realize it. No wonder Chan was worried about him and the life he lived. To him, his existence must seem so bleak and dull. 

In fact, Jisung himself thought his life was a bit boring, but he’d never tried to change it. He liked baking, to some extent, and he was pleased when he looked at a cake and thought,  _ it’s me. I made it.  _ He also took care of his plants, read books, and talked with Chan at least once a week. And time went by quickly. The days passed by, with nothing extraordinary happening, but he liked it that way. Going out of his comfort zone was not his thing. 

Except now he didn’t have a choice. He was forced to do things he’d never done before. And he was starting to get sick of it. He had walked for hours and had found nothing that could imply a magician lived nearby, only shepherd shacks. He’d always heard people talking about some strange moving castle seen around here that supposedly belonged to Hwang, but he had still to see it. He was getting infuriated. On top of that, he was physically tired. The elderly body he was trapped in could only take so much. 

He sat on some rock and started unpacking a sandwich, thinking he deserved a break. He had to admit the nature around him was really pretty. But no sign of a magic castle. 

“Well, I guess Hwang just moved to some other town,” he sighed. “I don’t even know where I’m going to spend the night.”

He decided it was a problem for later. Judging by the sun position in the sky, it was only late afternoon. He still had a bit of time before the night, where he would be forced to find a place to sleep. For now, he enjoyed his sandwich happily, the only bit of comfort on this tiring day. 

“Seriously, nothing beats a cheese sandwich,” he said out loud. He didn’t know why he kept speaking to himself like that, but it helped him feel less alone, in some way. 

As he was finishing his meal, he spotted a long staff sticking out from a bush. It would probably make a good cane and help him walk faster, considering its length. He got up and tried to remove it from the bush, but something was blocking it. 

“Oh, c’mon!” he grumbled, still not admitting defeat. He pushed harder on the stick, and finally he managed to get him out. But it wasn’t a stick: it was a scarecrow!

“Wow, you scared me!” he exclaimed, dropping it. To his surprise, the scarecrow didn’t fall, but stayed right where he was, jumping excitedly. 

“Wait… You’re alive?” 

The scarecrow jumped around him. Jisung sighed. “I was hoping to find a cane. Sorry but you’re not gonna help me, buddy.” 

The scarecrow stopped for a second, and then jumped a bit to the left, like he wanted to show him something. Jisung followed him, curious, and found a perfectly good stick on the ground. His face illuminated. 

“You actually understand what I say!” 

It was stupid to talk to a scarecrow, but he was used to stranger things. When you lived in a country where most people had magical powers, you learnt very soon not to be surprised about anything. And if he remembered Chan’s lessons well, it was really easy to give life to an inanimate object. This scarecrow had probably been put under a spell to do his job better. 

“You don’t know where I could find a place to sleep, by any chance?” he tried, raising an eyebrow. The scarecrow seemed to look at him with his empty eyes drawn on a turnip face. And then he left, jumping until Jisung couldn’t see him anymore. 

“I guess he could only do so much,” he said, a bit deflated. He kept going, hoping that maybe he would find a place to sleep before nightfall. 

As he walked, he found himself thinking of his mother. She was the kindest woman ever, but aren’t every mother in the eyes of their child? She treated Jisung and Chan equally, even if she knew Jisung didn’t have a core. Other parents weren’t this comprehensive and didn’t hesitate to simply leave their magicless children at the orphanage. 

She had died four years ago, when he was fifteen, and he missed her every single day. Her death had left them with Jinkyung, the man she had married after Chan and Jisung’s dad left them alone when they were eight and five years old. At first, they had no problem with Jinkyung. He was a water wizard who had inherited his parents’ fortune and came from a faraway town, located by the sea. He had come here because he wanted to travel the world, but he ended up falling in love with the cute baker who lived next to him.

Chan and Jisung had had trouble getting used to him at first. It wasn’t easy, seeing their mom with someone other than their dad, even if Jinkyung was nothing but kind to them. 

He always bought the boys gifts whenever he came, toys, dolls, plushies, spell books, clothes… His mother always told him he spoiled them too much, but he said it was how he expressed his love. He wasn’t their dad, but he treated them like his own sons, so of course they ended up dropping their guard. 

They shouldn’t have trusted him. When their mom died, they thought they could rely on him, that he would act like the father he had become to them and accept his responsibilities. But instead, he left Jisung in charge of the bakery when he was only fifteen years old, told Chan to get an apprenticeship as soon as possible and disappeared in some manor he’d bought on the other side of the town, only coming from time to time to collect the bakery’s money. From what Jisung knew, he kept partying with his friends, making profit of all his hours of work when himself did nothing. 

Jisung had thought about quitting. But where would he go? He needed the money he earned, even if it was not much. He had nowhere else to go, and he didn’t want to burden Chan with his problems. 

He missed his mother so, so much. Destiny was cruel to leave him without her at his side. His life could’ve been different if she was still alive. He would probably be happier. He wouldn’t be here, in the middle of nowhere, waiting for a magic castle inhabited by a powerful and terrifying magician to suddenly appear. As if it could happen. 

A huffing noise suddenly interrupted his train of thoughts and he raised his head, startled. In front of him, when several minutes ago stretched a green meadow, stood a giant assemblage of windows, turrets, chimneys and iron plates, all forming the strangest building Jisung had ever seen in his life. He couldn’t take his eyes off it, fascinated by the complexity of its construction. Everywhere his eyes landed, he saw something unexpected. It was like someone had been to a dump and picked up everything he could find to put together and form… Whatever this was. 

On top of that, the building had chicken legs that allowed it to move fairly quickly. Before he had the time to realize what was happening, he saw the scarecrow jumping as it came towards him.

“You’re back,” exclaimed Jisung, astounded. 

The scarecrow jumped even more, turning his head to the strange apparition. 

“What? You mean I should spend the night here?” he tried. The scarecrow didn’t reply, of course, but Jisung had a feeling the moving building hadn’t suddenly found itself here. 

“Thank you, I don’t know how I can repay you,” he choked on his words, before starting to run as fast as he could to catch up on the house. It wasn’t easy to run at his age, his muscles protesting at every step, but he was filled with determination and managed to grab the handle of the door at the back of the house. He hoisted himself up on the landing, panting but glad to finally be able to stop running. 

The scarecrow had stopped running and was now turned towards him as the distance between them grew bigger. Jisung, not quite sure what he was supposed to do, waved at him before he disappeared completely. 

He shook his head. Everything had happened too quickly; he felt his head spinning. But at least he had a place to go. He hoped the people inside would be welcoming. Considering where they lived, they must be rather eccentric and original. Wizards, obviously. Jisung took an inspiration and knocked. 

He waited for a bit, but no one came to open to him. He sighed and knocked again, thinking that with all the ruckus made by the house walking, the inhabitants hadn’t heard him, but to no avail. In the end, he tried to open the door. To his surprise, it was open. 

Inside, it was dark, the room only lit by a small fire in the fireplace. He climbed a few steps, his hand clutching his pants tightly. He was apparently in a living room, or some sort of kitchen, with a table covered with papers, vials, bottles and other objects he could not identify. 

"Is someone there?" he raised his voice, hesitating. He didn't want to impose himself in a house that wasn't his own, but he desperately needed a place to rest after his long walk. His body was aching all over. He walked to the fire and sat down in front of it, letting the heat warm him. 

He could almost fall asleep like this. He didn’t want to intrude, but he was so tired… His eyes were closing when a voice dragged him out of his somnolence.

“You got yourself a bad curse, didn’t you?”

He blinked. Who had just spoken? He turned to the right, to the left, but there was no one in sight. He frowned. Did old age also mean hearing voices? 

“I’m the fire,” said the voice, sounding exasperated. 

He looked in front of him. Indeed, the fire was looking at him, a bored face barely visible in the flames. Jisung felt like he should be surprised, but he wasn’t. One of the pros of aging was nothing could apparently trouble him. And then what he said reached his brain, and he opened his eyes wide. 

“A curse?”

The fire grumbled. “Yes, a curse. I bet you can’t tell me about it, but listen to me. I can help you.”

Jisung suddenly felt the hope swelling in his chest. “You do?” he exclaimed, fully awake now. He couldn’t believe his luck. Was it this easy to remove a curse? 

“It’s a strong spell. From the Crimson Witch, I believe?”

“Yes,” nodded Jisung eagerly. “Yes, exactly.”

“I’ll have to study it. How about you make a bargain with me?” continued the fire, and he rolled his eyes. Of course it would come with something to give in return. 

“What could you possibly want? You’re a fire. Apart from wood, I don’t see what you could need.”

“I’m a fire  _ demon _ !” he protested. “My name is Changbin, and I am under a spell myself.”

Jisung raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know demons could get curses. In fact, he’d never seen a demon before. He didn’t imagine them looking like this. 

“I’m bound to this hearth until my contract is broken,” whined Changbin. “But it can’t be broken unless I know what’s in the contract exactly.”

“How can I help if not even yourself know what this contract is?”

“It’s not my problem. Help me break out of it, and I’ll help you break your curse.”

Jisung sighed, frustrated. He thought he’d found a solution, but it was a dead end. “It seems impossible. I don’t know anything about demons or wizards. I won’t be of much help.”

“Well, if you want to stay like this, it’s up to you,” retorted the fire. “But this spell has reduced your life by about sixty years, from what I can see.” 

Jisung’s heart tightened. He imagined that he wasn't going to live for years like this, but hearing it out loud was even worse. “This contract you’re under, it’s with a wizard?”

“Yes. I’m forced to stay here and to keep the castle moving. I’m bored! I want to have my freedom back!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll try to find something,” said Jisung, desperate. “I agree to the bargain.”

“Yay!” cheered the fire demon, getting bigger as if fueled by the perspective of being free again. “I’ll break your spell the second you break my contract.”

Jisung felt like he’d been tricked, but what other choices did he have? He was ready to help a demon if it allowed him to break free of this curse. 

“It’s a deal then…” he yawned, feeling sleepy once again. “Can I stay here for the night?”

“I can’t exactly throw you out,” mumbled the demon, but Jisung was already drifting off. 

  * · ─────── ·· ─────── · ·



In his dreams, he was in the bakery again, but not alone. This time, he had his mother and his brother by his side, and they were all baking together, laughing and chatting like old times. When he woke up, he felt a wave of loneliness and nostalgia hit him. 

For a few moments, he frowned, not remembering where he was. And then it came to him. 

“Open, please!” 

Someone was knocking at the door violently. It was probably what had woken him up. Was he supposed to open? It wasn’t his house, but at the same time the people outside seemed rather irritated. Besides, he wanted to go back to sleep, but it was impossible if they kept shouting like this. 

“I’m coming!” screamed someone from upstairs, and he froze. So there was someone in the house after all. He was beginning to think he was alone with Changbin, who was apparently sleeping at the moment, the bright fire from yesterday reduced to a light flame. 

He heard someone go down the stairs and he closed his eyes immediately, not wanting to let this person know he was awake. 

“What? What is this grandpa doing here? Changbin, you let him in?” said someone behind him. It was a deep voice, but judging from its tone, it was a young boy probably not much older than him. Well, depending if you counted his actual age or the age of his body. 

Someone knocked at the door again, and the boy groaned. “Coooming!” 

He ran to the door, and Jisung opened one eye to see what was going on. From where he was seated, he could only see the back of someone wearing a black cloak, struggling to open the door. When he succeeded, three men were standing outside, dressed formally. Behind them, he caught a glimpse of a coach waiting, cobblestones paving the street and people walking clothed in an elegant manner.

“We have a message from the King for Wizard Sam. Is he here?” spoke loudly the tallest one, who had a top hat and a mustache that he kept stroking.

“Oh, hum, I’m afraid he’s not here at the moment,” answered the mysterious boy with the cloak. “I can take any message you have and deliver it to him later, though.”

The men looked at each other, hesitating, but then seemed to agree on something and handed him a letter. 

“Please tell him it is of the utmost importance,” assured the one with long brown hair.

“I’ll be sure to do so,” he replied kindly. “Have a good day, sirs.” 

They bowed slightly before leaving, and the door was closed right after. 

“God, they’re so energetic even though it’s barely 10am,” sighed the boy, turning over. 

Jisung closed his eyes quickly, afraid of being caught, but thankfully no one was paying attention to him. He heard the boy yawn and mutter to himself something about getting back to bed, and then noises of metal clanking. 

“Changbin, are you awake?” he called, footsteps getting closer to Jisung and the fireplace. “We need to make breakfast, or he’ll be in a bad mood again.”

Jisung kept perfectly still, but he knew the boy had already seen him and it was no use trying to pretend any longer. He sighed and opened his eyes, rubbing them and stretching like he’d really just woken up. His eyes landed on the person beside him, and he was surprised to see someone about his height, with the most angelic face he’d ever seen. He frowned. Was this really the boy with the deep voice? 

He had bright blue eyes and freckled cheeks. His blonde hair was a bit too long, covering his neck and his ears, and he’d braided part of it with a red ribbon that fell on his shoulders. The ribbon matched his red velvet jacket, paired with white pants and a white shirt. Jisung was sure he was wearing a cloak earlier, but there was no sign of it. 

They looked at each other during a minute of excruciating silence, neither of them talking. 

“What are you doing here?” asked the boy finally, raising an eyebrow. 

Jisung wasn’t quite sure about his answer. He figured he couldn’t tell him about the bargain he’d made with Changbin, but then he needed to find another excuse, and quickly. He looked around him, and noticed how dirty the room looked in daylight. The boy was holding a frying pan and some eggs, probably intending to make breakfast. He thought about what he could do. Except from baking, he didn’t have a lot of skills. But he’d been told his cakes were the best in Avonlea, so it was worth the try. 

“I, uh…” he coughed, not used to the sound of his raspy, old voice. “I’m the new cook. And cleaning man,” he added, because maybe cooking wasn’t enough. “My name is Jisung."

The boy shrugged. “If you say so. No one told me about it. You knew, Changbin?”

“Mmmhm,” mumbled the fire, apparently not sleeping anymore. Well, had he even been sleeping in the first place? Could fire sleep? 

“Great. Well, I’m Felix.”

Felix put the frying pan on the fire, earning a whine from Changbin, and broke the egg’s shells on the stone hearth before putting them in the pan. They made a sizzling noise as they cooked, and Jisung felt a pang of familiarity, like he was home again. Back when he was younger, his often woke up and found his mother in the kitchen making breakfast. He waited for her while playing with his toys, and he associated the noises of food being cooked with his mother. He wasn’t expecting being reminded of her this way, but here he was.

“Are you okay?” asked Felix, concern obvious in his voice. Jisung made a sweeping gesture. He was starting to act more and more like a real old person. It was concerning. 

“Yes, yes, don’t worry.” 

“Oh. You looked sad, that’s why I was wondering.”

Had he been this obvious? He sighed, but something bubbled in his chest. It felt strange having someone to notice that he wasn’t happy. Strange, but not disagreeable. He wasn’t used to people caring about him, even if Felix had probably just wanted to be polite. 

“It’s nothing. Memories of when I was young coming back to me, that’s all,” he chuckled. It wasn’t false, but it felt like he was talking about a time centuries ago, when in fact it was barely ten years. 

“Oh, I see. You must have a lot of memories after your long life.”

_ Well, after nineteen years of existence, I only know the bakery and my brother’s workshop, and that’s all. So not so many memories, I believe.  _ He kept quiet, only nodding. 

They stayed in silence after that, watching the food cook. Once the eggs were ready, Felix put them on three different plates, making room on the messy table. 

“Do you need help?” asked Jisung, because no matter how painful his muscles were, his benevolent nature always got the better of him. 

“Oh no, don’t bother, Grandpa!”

Right. Apparently, this was his new nickname. It felt odd to be called like this when he was sure he wasn’t much older than the boy in reality. Well, he supposed it was the price to pay to live here, at least for some time. Now that he’d stumbled on a fire demon, he didn’t need to find Hwang. Speaking of wizards, he still didn’t know who was the one in charge of this house. He could always try asking Felix, he didn’t seem too hostile. 

“You are an apprentice, I suppose?” started Jisung, tilting his head. 

“That’s right, sir! I’ve been working here for four months now!”

“My brother is an apprentice too. Well, was," he added, thinking that he couldn't possibly have a brother who was still in apprenticeship considering his age.

“That’s quite normal. It’s usual for a wizard to be an apprentice first. Few are the ones who manage to master their powers from the start,” said Felix kindly while fetching for cups and water. “Breakfast is almost ready!” 

He was about to pour water in the cups when someone knocked at the door again. He rolled his eyes, taking a piece of black fabric hanging from a coat rack, putting it on his shoulders. It was the cloak from earlier, realized Jisung. It turned him into an average looking man, with boring brown, flat hair and a common face, the kind of person you forget easily after passing them on the streets.

He went to open the door, and Jisung peered to see who was outside. This time it was a little girl wearing a pink dress and looking quite nervous. But what caught Jisung’s eyes was that the setting behind her wasn’t the same as earlier. The floor wasn’t made of cobblestones, but of pale-yellow sand. 

Curious, Jisung stood, ignoring the conversation Felix and the girl were having about a spell for some boat. He trudged to the window, barely repressing an exclamation when he didn’t see the endless meadows where he’d been yesterday. Instead, there was a port town, with little houses painted in shades of blue and the sea stretching a bit further from where he was. How did they manage to get here during the night? 

“Are you a wizard too, sir?” asked the young girl. 

He was alone with her now. Felix was likely upstairs to find what she’d asked for, and the curious child was looking at Jisung with amazement. 

“Uuuh…” he hesitated. “Yes, I’m the fiercest wizard in the whole country!” 

It was at this moment that Felix came out from under the table, brandishing a parchment. “Found it!” Jisung blushed significantly, embarrassed that he’d heard him. He didn’t think he was still in the room.

The girl thanked him and left, and Felix removed the cloak, regaining his usual appearance. He smiled at Jisung. “So you’re the fiercest wizard in the whole country? Good to know.” 

Before he could explain himself, the blonde boy was already turning to sit at the table. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ravenous!” 

Jisung realized he was quite hungry as well. He joined him. The meal didn’t look the most appetizing, as it was only a few eggs and some bacon, but it would do for now. If he was going to be a cook here, things would get better soon anyway, right? 

It felt weird not to be at the bakery right now. His heart clenched in his chest when he thought of Chan, alone and probably worried sick about him. He had to find a way to break his curse soon, or else his brother would come back to his apartment, and if he wasn’t here… He would move heaven and earth to find him and make sure he was safe. 

He was thinking of the bargain he’d made with the fire demon when the door opened. Felix gasped and stood up immediately, bowing. Jisung froze. It was probably the wizard who lived here. 

“Good morning, Mister Hwang! I hope you had a good night.”

_ Hwang?  _ As in… Hwang, the legendary sorcerer?

He raised his eyes, and his heart missed a bit.

In front of him was the handsome stranger from two days before, with his blonde hair and pink coat and soft green eyes. The stranger who had protected him from these two soldiers. 

He was Hwang. Hwang was him. 

He’d wind up in Hwang’s castle, and the most surprising thing was, he’d met him before. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyooo I hope you enjoyed this!! <33 kudos and comments are always appreciated, thank you and stay hydrated<33

**Author's Note:**

> heyooo I hope you liked this first chapter!! don't forget to stay hydrated <33 and my twitter @ is pilotsirens if you wanna be moots !! :D


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